


acid tongues and frozen hands

by yallbitter



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Hurt No Comfort, Martin Blackwood's Mother Bashing, Peter Lukas Being an Asshole, Sad Martin Blackwood, Trans Martin Blackwood, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27629465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yallbitter/pseuds/yallbitter
Summary: In the aftermath of the season 3 finale, Martin visits his mother.TW: Transphobia, intentional misgendering, deadnaming, emotional abuse
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Martin Blackwood’s Mother
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	acid tongues and frozen hands

The care home had got a new receptionist since Martin last visited.

He looked nice enough, a little young, probably fresh out of nursing school, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Martin would have to introduce himself. Again. He steeled himself to approach, and walked over with a smile that was only a little forced.

“Hello! I’m Arthur! Who are you here to visit?” He was also Scottish, apparently.

“Hi. I’m Martin Blackwood, here to see Alana Blackwood?” He waited, and sure enough, Arthur checked the list and smiled.

“Ahh, your aunt?”

“No.” Martin sighed. He hated doing this. “She’s my mother.”

Arthur’s bright smile stiffened just a little, and a small crease appeared between his eyes.

“She never mentioned a so-“

“She wouldn’t have.” It was hard to keep the bitterness out of voice. “Can you let me see her, please?”

The younger man looked like he was going to argue, but just then one of the other nurses came over- Tayna. Thank god, Tayna was a lifesaver. They came to a stop next to him and greeted them both.

“Hey, Martin! Here to see your mother again?”

“Yeah. How have you been, Tay?”

“Oh, just lovely, thank you! Arthur, don’t just stand there, sign him in.” They waved at the desk, and he typed quickly into the computer. “Sorry, love. He just started yesterday, we didn’t have time to mention….you know.” Tayna looked at him apologetically and led him down the hall. Martin could find his way by himself, but it was nice to have a little company.

“Right! Here we are!” They knocked carefully on the door and called “Alana? Martin is here to see you!”

As Martin stepped inside, Tayna grinned at him once more and left, shutting the door behind them. He swallowed, and turned to the bed in the middle of the room. His mother’s pinched face and barely disguised hatred made him feel about two feet tall, and he struggled to meet her gaze.

“Hey, Mum. How have you-“

She cut him off with a growl.

“Don’t pull that tone with me, Sarah.”

“Sorry.” He spoke quietly, sitting in the too-small armchair next to the bed. Every time. She always called him that. He hated it, he hated it so much and yet he never said a word against it. He supposed it made more sense now, after what Elias had shown him. Having to watch himself from his mother’s eyes, every step in his transition making him look more and more like his father. Like the man she hated.

No wonder she hated him. No wonder she thought he was failure, and no wonder he always had to explain to new hires that yes, he was Alana’s son, no, she won’t have mentioned him, no she didn’t have a daughter, no matter what she’s told you to the contrary. It was fucking _awful_.

“And now you aren’t even paying attention to me. Typical. You come all this way out here to make me put up with you and you won’t even listen. You always were an ignorant girl.” The venom and bitterness in her voice tore once more into wounds just barely closed over from his last visit, and left him with a burning aftertaste.

“Sorry, Mum.”

“Sorry, Mum.” She mocked back at him, the loose approximation of his voice obnoxiously deep and simpering. “Give me a break. If you aren’t going to be sensible, leave me alone.”

Every word cut him deeper, and he gritted his teeth, doing his best not to cry. He wouldn’t cry. Not in front of her. Not again.

He knew what she wanted from him, and so he stood up.

“I’ll….I’ll see you next time then, Mum. Have a good week.” He hesitated briefly before he continued. “Love you.”

She rolled her eyes at him, and when the nurse came in after him, he heard her say the parting words.

“She’s always so ungrateful, isn’t she?”

The nurse hummed soothingly and looked back at him guiltily.

 _I’m so sorry,_ she mouthed. He nodded stiffly and walked away.

He looked back.

He always looked back.

* * *

He held out on the tears until he was in his apartment, locking the door and taking a deep, quivering breath before he fell apart.

He sobbed quietly for a few minutes, and pulled out his phone. No new notifications. He opened messenger and opened the ‘Archive ASSistants’ group chat, venting into the text box. There was no response, not anymore. He’d taken to using it as a venting method, imagining what Tim and the old Sasha would have told him.

But that’s all it was. Imagining. Sasha was gone, stolen away and replaced right under their noses. Tim was dead, going out in a blaze of glory. And Jon…

He didn’t even want to think about Jon.

As he spiralled further and further, his phone started buzzing.

It was an unknown contact, a number he didn’t recognise, and Martin answered, expecting a telemarketer.

“Hello, Martin Blackwood.”

“Ah, good. Hello, Martin. My name is Peter Lukas, and I have an offer for you.”


End file.
